


if you love something

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: M/M, break up make up, not podcasters in this au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13554303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: Tommy moves away, and Lovett mopes, and halfway across the country/world/universe, Tommy suffers in silence believing Lovett never loved him.Or: If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't come back, it probably died of sadness because it thought you never loved it.





	if you love something

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaned-up chat fic that I'm pretty pleased with! Thanks to all of you screamed with me while I was writing it :) 
> 
> As always, KEEP THIS A SECRET.

In the end, Lovett supposes, watching Tommy’s mouth move but not really hearing the words that are coming out, it doesn’t really matter what the job is. What matters is that Tommy’s taking it, that Tommy’s moving across the country, that Tommy’s dreams are coming true. 

“I’m happy for you,” Lovett interrupts, and there’s a flash of something across Tommy’s face, the slightest wrinkle between his eyebrows, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it. “It’s good, Tommy, it’s -- yeah, congratulations.”

“You’re not -- I mean, you’re ok with it?” Tommy asks, and Lovett’s stomach churns as he forces a smile. 

_If you love something_ , Lovett tells himself. _let it go._

So Tommy goes.

*

“So, hey,” Emily says nonchalantly one afternoon, months later, while Lovett is tucked into the corner of the couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a bowl of popcorn in his lap. The side table is littered with empty Diet Coke cans, and Pundit is at his feet. “I have this friend.”

Lovett stiffens, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and takes a drink, Emily’s eyes on him the whole time. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m quite busy with other things at the moment. Very important matters, actually, so dating really isn’t really a thing that can happen right now.”

“Lovett,” Emily says gently, scooting closer. “We’re worried about you. It’s been almost six months and you’re still -- “

“Stop right there,” he snaps, almost tipping the bowl over in his haste to stand up. “I’m not still _anything_ , I am _fine_ , there’s nothing to see here, so you and Jon can stop _looking at me_ like I’m going to _disappear_ into a cloud of smoke or something.”

“Jon --”

“Emily,” he replies, scooping Pundit into his arms. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.” 

He’s out the door before she can stop him, only feeling a little bit guilty for the mess he left behind.

*  
The thing is, though.

Lovett’s not fine. He’s not fine by a long shot, and he’s angry with himself over it, embarrassed that he can’t just move on, get over Tommy like he’s so easily gotten over his other doomed relationships. 

It’s just --

He’d thought Tommy was different. They’d hit it off right away when Tommy moved to LA, when Jon and Emily had introduced them over dinner at their place, a “welcome to California” party in Tommy’s honor. By the end of the night, it felt like he’d known Tommy for years, not hours, and they had their first date just a few days later -- dinner and drinks at a swanky joint in WeHo, their feet touching under the table and Tommy’s hand heavy on Lovett’s thigh. 

When Tommy kissed Lovett good night at his front door, Pundit whining on the other side, Lovett felt like he was walking on air, and from there, it only got better. They were exclusive within weeks. Tommy had blushed adorably when they told Jon and Emily (who were very smug about the whole thing); he’d laced his fingers with Lovett’s and squeezed, and Lovett’s heart grew three sizes. 

They were talking about moving in together. Lovett was planning to say _I love you_.

And then Tommy got offered the job of his dreams, and it all came crashing down. 

*

_Tommy’s coming to visit for a few days_ Favs texts. _Dinner out tomorrow night, 8pm_

Lovett has lost 10 pounds since Tommy left. He shaved his head a few days earlier in a fit of sadness, ignoring the “are you sure” look his stylist gave him when described what he was going for. 

(“This is all very Britney 2007,” Ira said, not unkindly, as he rubbed one hand over Lovett’s head.)

Lovett is not ready for this. He doesn’t want to see Tommy, who’s killing it at his new job (Favs told him so) and who’s probably ridiculously happy with a million new friends and some hot new significant other. He tries to make an excuse to get out of the dinner, but it’s no use. He’s going to be stuck sitting across from Tommy all night, thinking about what might have been.

There’s no covering up the ridiculous haircut, and at this point, Lovett almost _wants_ Tommy to see it. Maybe Tommy will know, then, how much it hurt when he left. How Lovett had felt like he’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him, like all his plans for a future with Tommy were just in his head, just dreams that would never come true. He pulls on a plain black t-shirt, ignoring the way it hangs sloppily off of his shoulders, and heads out. 

He meets them at the restaurant, because he’s not sure he can handle sitting in the back seat of a car with Tommy, so he sees the back of Tommy’s head first. His hair seems—longer, somehow, closer to his collar than it used to be, and there’s a slight hunch in his shoulders that Jon doesn’t remember ever seeing before.

He makes his way to the table and clears his throat from behind Tommy, who stiffens almost imperceptibly. Emily gets up and hugs Lovett, Favs gives him a nod, and Tommy takes a long sip of wine and avoids Lovett’s eyes. 

Tommy looks—tired, Lovett thinks. There’s just the slightest crease between his eyebrows, like a permanent frown on his face, and he’s paler than usual, the dark circles under his eyes made even more obvious by the lighting in the restaurant.

“Hello, Thomas,” Lovett says, keeping his voice light, hoping it doesn’t shake like his hands are where they’re resting in his lap. Seeing Tommy again is like a punch to the gut. He feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “You’re looking well.”

Lovett sees Tommy’s eyes taking stock of him—his short-short hair, the way his shirt hangs loose on his frame. “Hey, Lovett,” he says, finally. “you look like shit.”

It startles a laugh from Lovett, his stomach turning. It’s not a lie, he thinks. He does look like shit, he _feels_ like shit, and it’s all Tommy’s fault, moving away and becoming super successful and leaving Lovett behind.

“Yeah,” Lovett snaps. “That’ll happen when your boyfriend moves across the country for a job and doesn’t ask you to go with him.”

Favs chokes on his drink.

Tommy gapes at him.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me, Lovett?” he hisses, but Lovett’s already pushing back his chair. “You can’t seriously be—“

“This was a bad idea,” he says, and hurries out of the restaurant, his face flaming, ignoring the way they’re all calling after him.

He orders a Lyft and turns his phone off before Favs or Emily—or Tommy, _god_ —can text him, and when he gets home to unlock his door, his hands are shaking again and his eyes are wet. He rubs at them angrily, scooping Pundit up as soon as he gets inside and rubbing his cheek against her soft fur. She makes an inquiring sound, and he sniffles, kissing her snout. 

Fuck Tommy, he thinks, for just showing up here out of the blue, for bringing all the pain Lovett had felt when he’d left back to the surface, where Lovett had kept it carefully repressed for months. He sniffles again, pressing the heel of his hand to his eye, and -- 

“Lovett,” comes a voice from behind him, and he startles so hard he nearly drops Pundit to the floor. 

When he turns, Tommy’s standing in the open doorway, because of course he is, of _course_ Tommy followed him here, needing to get the last word. Usually that’s Lovett’s thing, but the look on Tommy’s face right now says he’s here for a fight he doesn’t plan to lose.

“Your extra-pale complexion makes me wonder if you’ve turned vampire while you’ve been away, Tommy, and if that’s the case, you need an invite to come in here.”

“Lovett,” Tommy repeats, but doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the door frame. “I didn’t leave you for a job.” He sounds — tired, Lovett thinks. Really tired, and also really pissed off.

Lovett snorts, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “That’s rich, Tommy, considering that’s _exactly_ what you did.”

“Jon,” Tommy says, and takes a step inside. “I told you about the offer and you—fuck, you didn’t even _try_ to stop me.”

“Yeah, well, you know, I was just —“

“No, Lovett, shut up. Just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second.”

Lovett does, swallows hard and stops talking.

“I thought we had something, you and me. I thought — Jesus, Lovett, we were talking about _living together_ , I thought—and then I got the offer and you just.” Tommy looks at the floor. Sighs. Runs a hand through his weird, too-long hair. “Of _course_ I wanted you to come with me, Jon. But you never even gave me the chance to ask.”

Lovett stares at Tommy, his heart pounding and his palms sweating. Of course he’d given Tommy the chance to ask, was Tommy _crazy_? He remembered it so clearly, Tommy sitting him down and looking at him with big eyes—hopeful eyes, now that Lovett thinks about it—how he’d covered one of Lovett’s hands with his own, how he’d stroked his thumb gently over Lovett’s skin, back and forth, back and forth. 

How he’d been almost shy when he said it, “So there’s this really amazing opportunity that’s come up.” He’d never said _for me_ , Lovett realizes. He’d never even used the word _I_ , now that Lovett remembers, and even though Tommy hadn’t used the word _we_ , either, now that Lovett is thinking about how it all went down, he may has well have.

Lovett remembers what happened next—how he’d panicked, and plastered on his best fake smile, and clapped Tommy on the back like—like a _bro_ , oh _fuck_.

In typical Lovett form, he freaks out and puts blame where it very suddenly, very obviously does not belong. “Oh right, Tommy,” he snaps. “Because I was supposed to know you were going to, I don’t know, what? Ask me to up and move across the country with you? Right. Because it was a so obvious you had like, actual _feelings_ for me or something, right?”

“Lovett,” Tommy groans, a painful sound that makes Lovett’s heart hurt. “Is that— _Jon_ —how can you say—how can you even think that I _didn’t_?”

Lovett sneers and turns his back on Tommy, because he suddenly feels like he’s going to cry again, and fuck if he’s giving Tommy the satisfaction.

“So what, Tommy?” Lovett asks, waving a hand in the air. “What are you trying to tell me here, that you were, like, in big gay love with me? That your dream job included me and you and Pundit and Lucca and I don’t know, maybe a couple of kids down the road?” He’s rambling now, dangerously close to showing his entire hand, has to restrain himself from shouting “I loved you, you idiot!” at the ceiling.

He hears Tommy’s footsteps behind him, and for a terrifying moment he thinks Tommy’s leaving, leaving _again_ , and he stops breathing.

“I loved you, you idiot,” Tommy says quietly, and he’s standing closer than before, Lovett can tell. “I loved you, and you—let me go. You sent me off, and do you even—fuck, Jon, you have no _idea_ how that felt. How I had to just -- _go_ , just move on like it was nothing, when I _loved_ you, and you just — didn’t. You didn’t.”

Lovett’s throat is tight and his eyes are wet, brimming with fat tears. He bites his lower lip hard, takes a shuddering breath, trying to collect himself. He can’t believe — Tommy _loved_ him, Tommy loved _him_ , and he’d let Tommy go, made Tommy believe he didn’t feel the same way without even knowing he’d done it. 

“I thought,” Lovett starts. He sniffles and wipes the back of his hand over his eyes, blinking twice to clear his vision. “I thought loving you meant I should let you go,” he says, so quiet he thinks maybe Tommy didn’t even hear it. 

But Tommy laughs, this sad, soft thing over Lovett’s shoulder. “Lovett,” he says, “I thought we agreed not to follow the advice of a google search for ‘quotes about love’”.

“That was one time!” Lovett yelps, then sniffles again. “Ok, two, if you count this whole thing.”

He’s still not facing Tommy. 

“I loved you too,” he says to his feet. “I loved you so much, Tommy. I still—“ He coughs around the swell of emotions he’s feeling, takes a breath, and turns around. Tommy’s standing there, his mouth parted slightly, staring at Lovett expectantly. His eyes are a little red, Lovett notices, like maybe he wants to cry too.

“I still do. I never stopped.”

“Jon,” Tommy says, and Lovett’s flight mode kicks into high gear. He already watched Tommy walk out of his life once, he can’t stand to hear Tommy let him down easy, tell Lovett he’s moved on and it’s too late. 

“It’s fine,” he says quickly. “I’ll get over it, Tommy, c’mon, you’re not _that_ hot.” He forces himself to laugh, but it sounds more like a muffled sob than anything. He pushes past Tommy, standing by the door like he’s waiting to see Tommy out. 

Tommy just—stares at him, unblinking, and Lovett shifts from one foot to the other, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “So, uh. Yeah. Anyway, it was nice seeing you, thanks for stopping —“

“Jesus Christ, Lovett, would you shut _up_ ,” Tommy growls, and crosses the room in two long strides, cupping Lovett’s face in his huge, still-familiar hands and kissing him.

Later, when they’re laying tangled together on the living room floor, Tommy runs a hand over Lovett’s head, making a face. “Is this a sadness haircut?” he asks, and Lovett gasps loudly, mock-offended.

“As if you have room to talk,” he says, tucking a piece of Tommy’s hair behind his ear. 

“I missed you,” Tommy says softly, eyes locked with Lovett’s, and Lovett blinks, waiting for all of this to be a dream. “Come back with me.”

“I dunno, Tommy, moving across the country? That’s kind of a big commitment, are you sure we’re ready?”

“Lovett,” Tommy says seriously. “I’ve been ready since the day we met.”

And yeah, Lovett thinks. That sounds about right.


End file.
